The Gathering by Anne Enright

I’m always intrigued by books that whin the Booker prize. To be honest, I wasn’t really aware of the Booker and its significance in the literary world until I started working in a bookshop. There, the day of the launch of the long-list would always be a big event, and we would display all the chosen books in a special table. There would be people who came to buy them all read them and draw their own conclusions about which book deserved to win the final prize and why. Things would get even more interesting with the announcement of the shortlist and, finally, the winner (which was always controversial, some customers would come saying how the winning book was actually not that good and such and such other book should have won instead…) Which really tells you a lot about prizes and how subjectivity plays an essential part when judging their value.

I had no idea what The Gathering was about when I started reading, and it’s also my first piece by this particular author – who I’d heard from before. The first thing that became evident was the quality of the writing: superb. I was immediately drawn into the story by its unreliable narrator, a woman trying to make sense of a memory she has from childhood (or that she think she has, things are not completely clear in that regard). She’s convinced that, if she manages to remember it all, she’ll finally understand why her older brother Liam died by suicide.